In the Principal's Office, Angers opened the Neural Connector Old Tang had given him. Made of alchemy metal, the device felt extremely light in his hand, only a little heavier than a pair of earphones. It could be clipped into the hair and sensed the user's intentions by reading brain waves and mental fluctuations.
It was an exquisitely crafted little thing, but he had not tried it yet.
Angers shifted his gaze to a larger device beside it. This was the alchemical equipment the Göttingen Family had given him, which supposedly linked people's consciousnesses through the internet.
The Board of Trustees had begun using this kind of device for meetings as early as last year. Since they were all busy people, a device that freed them from restrictions of time and place while guaranteeing absolute confidentiality had naturally proved popular with the other members. Thanks to virtual meeting technology, board meetings, once held annually, had begun taking place more frequently.
Angers attached electrode pads to his temples and the spot between his eyebrows, put on the helmet, and connected the power supply and dedicated network cable. Following Charlotte's manual step by step, he checked and adjusted everything repeatedly until the progress bar on the computer finally reached the end and the self-test passed.
"We might as well use video conferencing," Angers grumbled.
He looked at the manual in the bronze box. Its instructions were simple: clip the Neural Connector onto your head, concentrate, and connect to Wi-Fi with your consciousness. Two-hour battery life, wireless charging.
This was the difference between a brick phone and an iPhone 4.
Marveling at the MARK Research Institute's technological prowess, he grew more interested in this organization and the organization behind it.
Angers pressed Enter and closed his eyes.
Seven lights suddenly came on in